Word count: 625 // +5 points
Damn. I seem to be getting carried away xD
Alduin hadn’t dared uncurl his body, still afraid of what consequences might lay in his near future. The Angela’s attempts at humor had fallen on deaf ears, and even more so for with her apology. He wanted to believe her, but something inside him urged the beast to remain as he was. Surely his reaction to her gentle and comforting touch would have stirred some sort of violent instinct that demanded blood for his atrocious behavior. He would not believe otherwise, and he stayed tightly wrapped within himself.
The lands were calm as he trembled. The wind whispered sweetly to him as it brushed softly against his fur, but even the tender caress of the sea breeze could not lead the beast to a better place. The physical world was a picture of beauty and peace, but the war waging within him made it all so dark and outright hideous. Try as he might to open his eyes to the splendor of Anathema’s lands, Alduin found it impossible. He knew nothing could compare to the Alaskan tundra or the bonds he’d shared with his mother and father. Anathema was his attempt at replacing what was lost to him, but the effort was all but futile. Nothing would bring back those feelings he’d been surrounded by in Alaska. He knew this well, and yet he insisted on trying to change it anyway.
And he felt terrible for expecting Anathema to be something it could not. It offered him a new start, a new life; and all he could do in return was try to bring back the past. It was a shameful act, and despite all his efforts, he couldn’t find it within himself to do otherwise. Truly, though, his efforts lacked any enthusiasm and it pained him to admit it. His claws dug into his arms, forcing blood from the puncture wounds they created as the truth sunk in. He did this unknowingly, and the hurt that coursed through his body went unnoticed. He was too numb to know anything about the world around him.
But he remembered Naniko. He remembered that she was still there, and this filled his spirit with hope. The white wolf remained by his side through all of this, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance for redemption. It surprised him that she had bothered to spare as much time for him as she did, and it forced him back into the arms of humility. How dare he treat her in such a manner when she had been kind enough to come to him—a lowly Tuyul? He frowned at his actions, but put on a sweet smile as he unfurled and turned kind eyes back to his Angela. Self-loathing remained his top priority, but he could put on a mask for her. He would spare the woman his anguish for the rest of his stay in Anathema.
So it was with a sudden turn of emotions and demeanor that Alduin rose to his feet and bowed in apology to the beautiful creature before him. For a moment, he could not find his words and his mouth hung open as he attempted to catch them. Soon enough, though, he was back to his normal self.
“Ah, hmm. My apologies, Miz D’Angelo,” he began. “I seem to have a knack for falling out of countenance around you.”
He put on a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his head as he lifted his body from the bow. Blood trickled down his arm and onto his ear, but all he could manage to do is flick it away and carry on. The last thing he needed was to see blood and fall back into a fetal position.
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